Whatever Way Stories End
by omg.it's.wickedjelly
Summary: Boq's been having some odd dreams: Glinda goes missing. His best friends are...alive? Then one of his dreams comes true and he has to rely on the others to provide him with the help he needs. And what if that help isn't what he expected? [Seq to The Dare]
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **A sequel! -triumphant music- Technically, you could read this without ever having read The Dare, as this is a somewhat independent story. (And, sadly, not Fiyeraba. :D) So if you are not in the mood to read this story's predecessor, then here is some general information:  
1) Glinda, as in The Good variety, is blind.  
2) Fiyero and Elphaba are married…  
3) and are currently living in a cabin in the woods, because  
4) when they were living in Kiamo Ko the Gale Force came knocking on the door for them.  
Haha, I might change my title, and the summary stinks. :P So does my Disclaimer but hey, girls just wanna have fun!  
Also, this story is not mapped out. I have no ending, only a middle. :D So bear with me!  
And: um…updates will be like, once every week and a half/two weeks. Why? Because I spent a lot of time on this story, I now have a C in Geometry and a C+ in English. Um, yuck. I'm a complete nerd so that does not work for me! Anywho…all you have to do is read, review, and enjoy.

**Disclaimer**: Last night…I had a dream. I found myself in a heaven – called WickedJelly-owns-Wicked Land. It was bliss, I was famous beyond my wildest dreamings and I was – happy. Then, out of the abyss, walked a Cow – reality. I asked if my profit from Wicked had increased in the last week.  
She said, "Dream on."  
…darn.

**Title**: Whatever Way Stories End  
**Rating**: T  
**Summary:** Boq has been having some strange dreams: Glinda goes missing. His best friends are...alive? Then one of his dreams comes true and he is forced to rely on the others to provide him with the help he needs. But with if that help isn't what he expected?

* * *

Boq awoke with a start, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He panted slightly as his eyes darted about the room frantically before finally resting on the beauty that lay sleeping beside him: Glinda. His wife.

For a clock tick Boq forgot about his dreams – no, nightmares. After all, even the simple act of _looking_ at Glinda made him forget everything. She was beautiful, she was perfect, and she was his.

But then it all came back.

_A man and a woman dressed in wedding finery, holding hands, enter a castle. The air is serene and amiable. The man leans in for a kiss to which his bride accepts. Together they stand there, soaking in each other's presence, knowing that all they have is each other. Follow them up two flights of stairs, down a hall, to the right, then the left, then up another flight of stairs, finally stopping at a room on the immediate left. They enter and she walks over to the only window and from it you can see a seemingly never-ending forest of trees. _

_Zoom in. The man is a light chocolate in color and the woman is…_green.

_Switch scenes._

_There is a woman chained to a cold, stone wall. The room is dark, but you have a feeling the lack of light is of no concern to the woman. What _does_ concern her is the sound of heavy footsteps echoing in the adjacent hallway. The woman squeezes her eyes shut in anticipation; she knows who – and what – the footsteps will bring. _

_In walks a big, elderly woman. She strides over to the other, younger woman, unleashes a chain of insults, and harshly strikes her across the cheek. The victim's head is consequently thrown back against the hard wall, creating a hollow sound. She tries to kick her offender in retaliation, but to no avail. The offender cackles and then laves._

_Zoom in. The woman on the wall…has curly blonde hair._

The bizarre dreams left Boq feeling confused and, naturally, fearful. He couldn't help but think that he'd had a premonition of sorts. He briefly toyed with the idea of telling Glinda but quickly dismissed it; they were only dreams after all, and so there was no need to worry her. At least, he hoped.

But she was Glinda the Good; she was wise and kind to all her subjects and had admirers by the dozens. There would always be people watching over her. But maybe, just to be precautious, he should heighten her security a bit, maybe limit her daily public appearances to…not daily. Then all would be good.

Glinda, somehow knowing that her companion was asleep no longer, stirred and Boq leaned over to give her a kiss. "Morning, dear."

"Already?" she mumbled sleepily. Her eyelids opened and she sat up in bed slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. She breathed in and said, "Mmm, you smell good."

Boq blushed furiously (Glinda still had that kind of effect on him) but managed to push out a semi-coherent reply. "Thanks, youdotoo."

Glinda only smiled and brushed her hand over his forehead. Feeling the heavy amount of moisture that had accumulated over his brows, she frowned. "Did you have a bad dream, honey?"

"No," Boq lied. "I was just…really hot."

"You're always hot," she teased, lying back down.

"No, actually, I have a tendency to be cold." Noticing her expression he considered the alternate meaning. "Oh. Yes. Um…I am, aren't I?"

Glinda only rolled her eyes and asked, "what time is it?"

"About nine-thirty."

"Oh!" His wife sat back up in bed. "I'm supposed to visit a school today at eleven."

"About that…I'm…not so sure you should go out today," Boq said tentatively.

"Why _not_?"

"Because…there might be a really bad storm," he elaborated.

"Uh-huh. Listen, Boq…dear…I'm not as weak as you think I am."

"Glinda, I'm serious."

"And I am, too!" his wife responded angrily. "I have people protecting me and I'm not _stupid_."

The Munchkin sighed and rubbed his chin. "I never implied that, but…I just don't like you going out all the time."

Glinda's face softened. "You mean…you miss me?"

That wasn't what he was getting at but it _was_ true, as he was never allowed to accompany her when she made her appearances. Why, he had no idea, but she was always gone for at least four hours a day and he was constantly feeling lonely.

"Of course! Yes, I do."

She paused, considering the options. "Well then, you can come with me! I can't believe we've never thought of that before."

That wasn't what he was getting at either, but it would just have to do. After a clock tick Boq replied, "oh, alright. I'll go with you."


	2. Chapter 1: Green and Gold

**Author's Note: **Oh, don't kill me, don't kill me! I know it's been awhile, I know. But duty (i.e., school and family. And friends) gets priority nowadays. ;) Plus, the fact that my computer privileges are dwindling doesn't help my cause much. So I'm sorry. About the fact that I'm going to have to become one of those authors who only update about every two weeks. –sobs- And hehe, guess what? Next Thursday I'm going on a four day long chorus trip. Yay! I got a dress from AE for it and so now I'm happy.  
I'm also happy that for my next concert, we'll be singing a Wicked medley. Lyk, OMFG! I was so happy. Still am.  
Ugh, this chapter is yurcky. Please nitpick, por favor! And read, review, and enjoy.  
Ps: If you go by the name Cardboard, please read my postscript. :D

**Disclaimer**: Last night…I had a dream. I found myself in a heaven – called WickedJelly-owns-Wicked Land. It was bliss, I was famous beyond my wildest dreamings and I was – happy. Then, out of the abyss, walked a Cow – reality. I asked if my profit from Wicked had increased in the last week.  
She said, "Dream on."  
…darn.

**Title**: Whatever Way Stories End  
**Rating**: T  
**Summary:** Boq has been having some strange dreams: Glinda goes missing. His best friends are...alive? Then one of his dreams comes true and he is forced to rely on the others to provide him with the help he needs. But with if that help isn't what he expected?

* * *

Glinda, assisted by Boq, stepped out of the lavish carriage elegantly and waved at the students who had all gathered in front of the school building. Boq noted the diversity amongst the young learners, whose ages ranged from six to sixteen: Munchkinlanders, red-skinned Quadlings, Gilikinese with their fine clothing, and even a few kids from the Vinkus with their distinct tribal markings. One little Quadling girl gazed at Glinda's stunning ball gown longlingly and would have bolted toward the woman had a teacher not been holding her hand.

"Good morning, Lady Glinda!" the students chorused.

"Good morning," Glinda replied cheerfully and threw her husband a look that clearly read, _see? Everything is fine._

Two Gale Force officers (Hillar and Rindeb, was it?) stepped forward with a supercilious air, completely knocking Boq off to the side, to accompany Glinda the Good into the building. Boq trailed behind the crowd, grumbling at the lack of appreciation in his direction. Somehow, he thought irritably, the fact that he was married to the ruler of Oz had not registered in anyone's brain but his.

Once inside a classroom, Glinda was ushered into a plush chair at the head of the room .When Boq finally straggled in, the only seat left was a wooden one at a far corner…and so that's where he sat. If he craned his neck, he could just see the tip of his wife's tiara.

After introductions were made one of the children raised their hand. She spoke when a teacher gave her a permissive nod. "Miss Glinda-"

"Just call me Glinda, dear," the blonde woman replied. "I am married, after all. Speaking of which…where is my husband? He should be up here with me."

Boq's heart soared as another Gale Forcer (ah yes, this one was Lopcan) stepped forward, a sheepish expression written across his face. "My apologies, Miss Glinda-"

"Glinda. I'm _married_."

"Again. My apologies, _Glinda_, but we weren't quite sure where to put him."

Glinda turned her head in the direction of the guard's voice and gave him a look of bemusement. "_Put him_? He's my husband. Hus-band. As in, my spouse. My partner. My lover, if you will. And we love each other. Therefore, it is natural for us to want to be close to each other."

The guard, taking in her last statement and blushing at the concept of being "close" to a lady such as herself, promptly ordered a teacher to bring the wooden bench to the front of the room. Boq walked over to the seat with self-importance, grinning all the way. Oh, how he loved Glinda. He took his wife's hand, causing a smile to creep up upon her face. Then she began her educational speech on "Animals versus animals".

"Animals. Can anyone tell me what they are?"

"They can talk!" blurted the same girl.

Glinda smiled. "That's entirely true, dear; good for you. Can anyone else tell me anything more?"

A boy who was previously slumping against a far wall, behind Glinda's line of vision, appeared out of the shadows. "There should never be a difference. Animals are vermin that need to be exterminated."

The room was silent with shock for more than a few clock ticks. Then Glinda spoke, her voice chilling the air. "It's a shame you think that, because I find your opinion very unjustified."

The boy only snorted and gave her a glare that caused Glinda to shiver involuntarily. "I don't care what you think, your _Goodness_," here he spat, "because I think you're a bitch. A filthy, rotten-"

One of the teachers frantically stood up and pulled him outside. Glinda could only gape out at the students, trying not to let her face portray how she felt: rotten. Just like he'd said.

"Oh your Goodness, I'm so sorry. Please forgive him," a teacher said, rushing to her side. "Master Grof…he's…he's rather brash when he talks, but it's not entirely his fault. He has a minor mental disorder that skews his judgment. Of course," the teacher added hastily, "that doesn't mean his actions were justified."

"Might I ask what his surname is?" Glinda queried.

The teacher hesitated. "His last name is…Morrible."

Boq emitted a loud gasp. Since when did Madame Morrible have children? She was _old, _for Lurlinesake, and that would mean she would've had to have…well, _you_ know…with someone – but who? Who was that old woman's…_lover_?

"Oh," said Glinda, feigning disinterest. "So how is he faring with his mother in prison?"

"It hasn't exactly helped his disposition, but he's managing. He – wait. His mother is in prison? That's impossible. I think you must be referring to his grandmother, your Goodness."

"You mean…oh no. There's more?" she said, so shocked that her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Well, yes," the teacher said tentatively, feeling uncomfortable. "That teacher who pulled him out…was his mother."

"Is his mother much like him?"

"Meaning…oh yes, yes. I mean, no, she isn't. She is rather fond of you and what you stand for, as a matter of fact."

Glinda let herself be flattered for a clock tick before pressing on, not caring how officious she was. "But where did she _come_ from?"

"Look, your Goodness. I don't know much about Miss Petootla Morrible, but what I do know is this: as a baby she was found on the doorstep of the Church of Saint Glinda. The maunts there took her in. Then when she was around…five, was it?" the teacher said, looking around at the other teachers for confirmation. "Yes. When she was about five years old, Morrible arrived at the door and offered to take young Petootla into her care.

"Then, thirty she had her son: Master Grof. We don't know who the father is; we've never asked, she's never said. But the boy wanted to know, and he thought Morrible could help him. So he went to her. While she wasn't able to tell him who his father was, they became quite close. He started pushing his mother away. So far away, in fact, that he thought it fit to run off and live with his grandmother. But when she…well, you know…went to _prison_, he was forced to go back to residing with his mother. Petootla Morrible. Needless to say, he wasn't too happy about that. And that just about sums things up."

That was a lot more information than, "I don't know much…", but Glinda wasn't complaining. "I see. Thank you," she said slowly, then began to massage her forehead as she felt a sudden bout of fatigue overcome her body.

"Have you had enough?" Boq whispered.

"I – to be honest, yes. But I can't just leave," she responded just as quietly.

He chuckled. "Oh, yes you can; you're Glinda the Good." Boq didn't want to let on that he thought she _should_ leave, and not only because she was tired. His concern for her safety had increased as a result of the whole "Morrible has family" thing.

"Alright," Glinda relented. She stood up and gave the students a small smile. "Thank you, everyone, for allowing me to speak at your lovely school. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm feeling well enough to continue on with my speech today, but I do plan on finishing it some other time. Thanks again, and goodbye."

Fifteen minutes later they were traveling along a dirt road on their way home. Boq and Glinda occupied the front carriage while the four Gale Forcers brought up the rear in a second carriage.

"I just can't believe Morrible could have _any_children, even if they weren't her own," Glinda thought out loud. "How could we not have known?"

"Don't worry about that right now," Boq said as he placed a kiss on her forehead. "Listen: maybe you should put a hiatus on your appearances for awhile."

"Oh Boq, not that again."

"But what if-"

_Boom._

A deafening sound vibrated throughout the air around them, shaking the carriage. A clock tick later, it stopped.

"What was that?" Glinda gasped as a second _boom_ was heard.

"Let-let me go check."

Boq opened the door of the carriage and was about to step out when one of the Gale Force officers shouted, "Get back in!"

He wasted no time in following orders.

"What's the matter?" Glinda asked fearfully as he sat back down next to her.

"Nothing. Don't worry, my dear," he said (most likely the worst lie he'd ever told) and pulled Glinda into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder and he petted her hair when he noticed she was trembling. It didn't help that he was no less terrified than his wife.

But when a third _boom_ rang out, then the sound of a rifle being fired, the horse that was leading their carriage spooked. The couple was thrown forward onto the floor as the frenzied animal pulled the carriage along at a breakneck speed and before they could react, the carriage was thrown onto its side. It skidded down the decline and off the dirt road until it slid to a halt a couple feet later.

And the last thing Boq saw was a green and gold uniform.

**

* * *

Author's Wittle Message: Um…yeah. I'm mucho sorry, but I might not be PMing you for awhile, cos apparently my computer might get taken out of my room – for a long time - if I don't stop emailing. :P Needless to say, I like my computer. So a lot less emailing for me. But I shan't forget you!**


	3. Chapter 2: Horrible Husband

**Author's Note: **-coughs- Well, so, it's been exactly two weeks! That's not so bad, is it?  
OH MY GOSH!!! My choir trip was so my-goshin' fun. I can't even…ugh. It was just amazing. Perfect weather! I was just lying all the beach, you know, while other people were at school. Hehe. And I danced with a senior. ;) Too bad I got a nasty sunburn, though. Let's just say you shouldn't keep white toast in the toaster for too long. :P  
If you were a participant in the Wicked Challenge, I'm just going to judge them (with Bomba, durh) and be done with it. I am kind of tired of it, really.  
And…what else…lmao, I'm so used to writing humongoly long Author's Notes. But I don't have much to say, so…read, review, and enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: Last night…I had a dream. I found myself in a heaven – called WickedJelly-owns-Wicked Land. It was bliss, I was famous beyond my wildest dreamings and I was – happy. Then, out of the abyss, walked a Cow – reality. I asked if my profit from Wicked had increased in the last week.

She said, "Dream on."

…darn.

**Title**: Whatever Way Stories End  
**Rating**: T  
**Summary:** Boq has been having some strange dreams: Glinda goes missing. His best friends are...alive? Then one of his dreams comes true and he is forced to rely on the others to provide him with the help he needs. But with if that help isn't what he expected?

* * *

"Sir?"

At the sound of a voice, its tone filled with anxiety, Boq drifted back into consciousness. His eyelids fluttered open and he groaned as an intensely bright patch of sunlight greeted him. He lowered his eyelids again to soothe the throbbing in his skull that made him want to thump his head against a rock. If that made any sense or anything.

"_Sir_? Are you alright?"

Boq reopened his eyes, but this time placed a protective shield – in the form of his hand – over them. Lurline, he didn't recall ordering a menagerie of animals to romp around inside his head. But just then he jolted up, remembering. Everything. He looked around for…Glinda.

_Glinda._

Shit.

"Sir, I-"

"Where is she?" Boq barked. "Where the _hell_ is my_ wife_?"

The guard looked down at him uneasily. "I don't know, sir. Something…someone…must have taken her. Or maybe she ran away to safety. You know what? I bet that's it. So why don't you just rest there for a minute or two and then we can-"

"You don't seem very concerned about this," Boq interrupted, blanching. "Help me out of here Lopcan, and go find her. _Now_."

"Yes, sir." Lopcan sent a hand down to the Munchkin who clamped onto it firmly (his anger gave him more physical strength than usual) and climbed out of the overturned carriage.

"Where were you when all of this happened?" he demanded furiously.

"I was unconscious – like you were – until just a few minutes ago. Sir."

"And the others?"

"Dead, sir, by rifle-shot," Lopcan returned.

"Ah, so you weren't unconscious _then_, were you? Why didn't you do something _then_?"

"I'm not sure what you would expect me to do in that type of situation, sir."

"Obviously not try and protect my wife's life," Boq said sarcastically. "After all: as a Gale Forcer, your employer comes last."

"Sir, I can't outrun a mad horse."

Boq didn't answer for awhile, because he didn't want to give in. But then it was all just too much for him and he crumpled to the ground miserably. "Oh…oh, Glinda," Boq cried. "I _knew_ we shouldn't have gone, I _knew_ it. It's all my fault, it's all my fault, I should've known, I-"

"Sir!" Lopcan interjected, becoming quite fearful of this side of Boq which he had never been exposed to before. For Oz's sake, he was acting like a woman during her menstrual cycle, which was pretty awful considering his fiancée's – and Boq's – reaction. "I don't mean to be rude but if you want to find Her Goodness, we must start searching _now_. We have no time for hysterics."

The Munchkin sighed sadly. "You're right; let's go." They turned to walk down the path and when they passed the second carriage, Boq nearly gagged at the sight of the bloodied bodies of the soldiers. The stench was unbearable. Lopcan only looked on grimly.

They continued on into the trees, hoping for a trace of Glinda; a footstep, a broken twig, a fragment of clothing…anything that would help determine her whereabouts. But after almost two hours of endless searching, they came up with nothing and while they didn't care to admit it, were exhausted.

"Sir, you look like you're about to collapse. Let's take a rest and when we get back, I'll dispatch some Forcers out here and then we'll resume _our_ search tomorrow. Plus we really need to patch up that cut of yours."

Boq looked at the hand that had been previously rubbing his temple and was surprised to find it nearly coated in the red liquid. That was funny; he'd never been that concentrated on a task before, not even studying for those dreaded finals back at university. Ah, Shiz. It was where he met Glinda.

Glinda.

"We can't stop now," he said obstinately. "We've gone so far that there's no _point_ in stopping now."

"Not only is there no point in collapsing due to an extreme state of exhaustion, we haven't accomplished much anyway."

"But at least now we know where _not_ to look," Boq whined, "and I assure you that I am far from coll-"

Luckily enough for him, it was then that he tripped over a tree root. He so unprepared for this that he couldn't think quickly enough to break his fall, and landed on his left shoulder.

"Dammit," he groaned. Lopcan rushed over to the Munchkin to help him up and had to literally drag him over to a tree stump. Overcome by pain, both external and internal, Boq started to cry.

He had really messed up, really and truly and fully. He was a horrible husband. Horrible horrible horrible _horrible_. For the love of Oz, what kind of _man_ would allow his wife to disappear in front of his very eyes? To go _missing_ in his presence? Not a good one. Not an even remotely good one. No. No no no no, "No!"

Lopcan jumped back at the sudden noise. "Sir, I think it's time to head back, really. You're unwell."

"Okay," Boq responded sullenly. He stood up, assisted by the soldier's hand, and they made the twenty minute walk out of the forest in silence. Only problem was that home was a good half an hour away – by carriage. It didn't take long for Lopcan to realize this and as soon as he did, spoke up.

"There's no way we can walk all the way back right now in our condition."

"What are you talking about? It's just like you said; we'll take a quick little rest break and then we'll be off."

"No sir, that's not what I meant. We won't stay the night, but we do need to rest for at least an hour or two. Honestly; you won't regret it."

"Lopcan," Boq said seriously, "do you have a wife?"

"I'm engaged," the guard returned.

"What's her name, then?"

Lopcan smiled before saying, "Bellera."

"And do you love Bellera?"

"Oh yes, sir! Very much so."

"And so if – hypothetically – she was to go missing, you would be devastated?"

Lopcan was about to reply when he realized the whole point of this conversation. "Sir, I understand where you're coming from. But I was hired to ensure the wellbeing of Glinda the Good and, because you are her spouse, _you_. And if I allow you to continue walking for any longer, you would not be well. You would be unwell, really."

Boq emitted a small laugh, but he wasn't amused. "Oh, so _now_ I'm Glinda's husband? When it's convenient?"

"I am deeply sorry about that little mix-up but you are only our second priority. Her Goodness being the first, of course," Lopcan said, blushing.

"Only?" Boq exclaimed, his sore feet only feeding his temper. "_Only_? Two only differs from one, you know, by…um, one. I think I'm pretty high up there."

"Sir-"

"Don't _sir_ me," he spat.

"_Well_ then, Boq, calm down. Please. I don't want you to completely wear yourself out."

"Just because I'm a little shorter than average doesn't mean I don't have enough energy as everyone else!"

"I wasn't implying that, s – Boq. But you need to calm down and stop blowing this out of proportion."

"I am not blowing this out of proportion!" Boq shrieked. "How do you expect me to _calm down_?"

"Don't yell at me," Lopcan responded, finding it hard to keep_ himself _calm. After all, he was tired as well. "I'm only trying to sympathize with you. I can't imagine how you must be feeling, but I know that working yourself to a state of exhaustion can not be helping your case. So let's rest before either of us gets hurt."

Boq sighed dejectedly. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry for yelling at you because you're right; I'm tired. And I presume you must be as well."

"A little bit, thank you. Now we'll take our little rest – for two hours…three, maybe? – and then we'll head back."

The two men sat down on the grass and Lopcan removed the rifle from its holster, just in case. But it was then that Boq came upon a realization. "Wait," he said slowly. "Two are dead, but there are – were – four of you. That equals three. So where's the fourth?"

"Hillar? Missing in action," Lopcan replied uneasily.

"Oh, that's just lovely. The co-captain of the Gale Force is missing." Boq sighed. "Do you think there is any connection between the disappearance of Hillar and my wife?"

But Lopcan only placed a reassuring hand on the Munchkin's shoulder. "I don't know, but we'll find him. And most importantly, we're going to find your wife."

"We will?"

"We will. Promise."


	4. Chapter 3: News

**Author's Note: **So, this came soon enough. Eight days! Eight days is good, very good. :D  
Anywho, I am actually not too happy with this chapter. Something's wrong with it and for the life of me, I just can't figure it owwwt! –sobs- But um, I guess it was partially because I was rushing to (re)introduce some characters…and I just couldn't wait any longer. I like those characters. They make me happy. They make me want to read some juicy stories. –giggles-  
On a not-so-side note, we all have someone very special to thank. Without her, there wouldn't be any dunces (you'll see later on) in this world – er, Oz. The idea of even having dunce wouldn't have occurred to me.  
YAY FOR CARDBOARDCREATIVE!  
-major dessert time-  
Read, review, and enjoy.

**Disclaimer**: Last night…I had a dream. I found myself in a heaven – called WickedJelly-owns-Wicked Land. It was bliss, I was famous beyond my wildest dreamings and I was – happy. Then, out of the abyss, walked a Cow – reality. I asked if my profit from Wicked had increased in the last week.  
She said, "Dream on."  
…darn.

**Title**: Whatever Way Stories End  
**Rating**: T  
**Summary:** Boq has been having some strange dreams: Glinda goes missing. His best friends are...alive? Then one of his dreams comes true and he is forced to rely on the others to provide him with the help he needs. But with if that help isn't what he expected?

* * *

Boq and Lopcan arrived at the mansion two and a half hours later. Immediately upon their arrival, the Gale Force captain and one of the newer officers rushed out in a panic.

"Sirs, sirs! We have terrible news!" the newbie exclaimed.

Boq looked at them in horror; was the case of his missing wife not bad enough? What _else_ could have gone wrong in the mere hours he was away? "Before either of you says anything, I want two brigades out looking for my wife, _now_."

The second Gale Forcer's jaw dropped. "Her Goodness is missing? Oh, for the love of the Unnamed God, could this day get any worse? Otek."

"Yes, Captain."

"Send two troops out on a search mission for Lady Glinda and keep one here to guard Master Boq. No one can enter or leave this mansion without a proper inspection. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Then what are you waiting for? Go!"

Otek obeyed and ran off, leaving the trio of men alone.

After a brief moment of awkward silence the Captain spoke. "Sir, I really do regret having to burden you with yet even more bad news, but Madame Morrible has escaped from prison."

"_What?_" exclaimed Boq angrily. "How the _hell_ did that happen? Goddamnit Bjeto, this isn't acceptable."

"I am terribly sorry sir, really, but the getaway occurred during our breakfast hour."

"I – oh Oz, send an additional two brigades out. Please."

"Yes sir, but there's something else."

"Do tell."

Bjeto reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment. "There was a note left at the scene."

"Oh, let me see that," Boq said, grabbing the aforementioned letter. He lowered his eyes to the page.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_We would like to extend our deepest regrets that it has come to this. But as you have now come to realize, we are not a force to be messed around with. A few years ago on this very exact date, Glinda the "Good" came into power. In doing so she sent our leader –Madame Morrible – to prison. That was the first and last straw. Morrible had been our benefactor for many years and once she was sent into captivity, many of us were left without the proper necessities needed to survive. The result? Deaths of poor, innocent children.  
__Ever since then we've become an all-underground organization and, while our minor intentions have remained the same, our major objective has not:  
__Kill Glinda the "Good".  
__We assure you, however, that there is no need to be alarmed. These things take time. And even though at this point we will already have her, we won't kill her just yet. Because now that we have Madame Morrible back, we have some important business to take care of first..._

_Sending our regards,_

_DUNCE (Domination Under Nobility, Chivalry, and Efficiency)_

Boq promptly collapsed onto the ground and let the parchment fly out of his hands. Bjeto and Lopcan exchanged a look before the former walked off to leave Lopcan to tend to the Munchkin.

"G-Glind…a," he sobbed, choking on her name. "Oh…oh Oz…I-I can't…live…wi-without her…"

"Boq, Boq. It'll be okay, really. We'll find her before anyone can harm a hair on her head."

"But she can't fucking _see_!" Boq screamed. "She can't defend herself against people who are obviously stronger than her, especially when she's in an unfamiliar environment. I don't even know where to _look_ for her and you Gale Forcers won't be any help, I know it. I need help!" He held his head in his hands and then looked up at the Gale Forcer tearfully. "Why _her_? What has my Glinda ever done that would make someone want to kill her? She's…she's Glinda the _Good_! She's _good_! You don't _kill_ good people. You don't _kill_ good, innocent women."

"Um, you don't _kill_ anyone."

"I _know_," Boq said vehemently, "so don't give me that crap. Just this _once_, Lopcan, act like you actually care about Oz and its leader. And what it stands for."

Lopcan looked down at the ground uneasily. "I do, honestly. But…you have to understand…nothing like this has ever _happened_ before. When I signed up for this job I thought all of that Wicked Witch kind of business was done and away with. I didn't expect the abduction of Oz's most respected leader. Aside from the Wizard, of course."

Boq couldn't help but emit a snort at the relation of the words _Wizard_ and_ respect_; he had heard all about the Wizard and his lack of Wonder from Glinda. "I don't understand your reasoning, Lopcan. You sign up to be a _Gale Forcer_ whose job is to protect Ozian leaders – at all costs – yet you expect not to do any actual protecting? Then, by all means, quit this job."

"But I can't and I won't. Not when I'm this far into it," Lopcan protested.

"Your explanations continue to puzzle me, but this isn't about you. This is about _loyalty _and doing what you love. If you don't love this job, then I reiterate my suggestion: _leave_."

"Again, I won't."

"All right. I assume that your recalcitrance portrays your love for this career?"

"It does!"

"Then moving on." Suddenly Boq felt an overwhelming wave of dizziness rush through him and he grasped onto Lopcan for support. He groaned when nausea followed.

"You've had too much sun, haven't you?" Lopcan asked.

"Sun? N-no. I'm fine, really," Boq assured, righting himself. Once he had Lopcan convinced, he continued. "So we have a secretive terrorist group on our hands. Have you ever heard of this group before, by any chance?"

"No," the Gale Forcer mumbled.

"For goodness sakes. Don't lie to me Lopcan, you know much better than that."

"It's not _your_ business to delve into my personal life."

Boq furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you saying you're a terrorist?"

"Oh, no! No no no no _no_. _No_ way."

"Well, I'll trust you on that," Boq conceded, "and I won't pry into your 'personal life'. But _don't_ lie to me. Please."

"Yes sir."

Boq then leaned onto the Gale Forcer as a second wave of sickness passed over him, even worse than the previous one. And before Lopcan could react, Boq collapsed onto the ground.

- - -

_A green woman is bustling about inside a small cabin. The cabin is situated on the brink of a forest in the middle of nowhere. She looks expectant, anxious, as she eagerly anticipates someone's return; someone very important to her. _

_She then jumps up as the door opens and in walks a man, dark-skinned, carrying a knapsack. The woman grins broadly and runs into his arms. The knapsack is thrown aside. But she pulls away when she sees his expression._

- - -

"What's wrong?"

"Oh Fae, I'm sorry; we'll worry about such things later. Because for now, I just want you."

Elphaba blushed but pushed the matter further. "No, tell me. Please."

"Can't we talk about news later? I've missed you so much," Fiyero said alluringly, pulling on the zipper of her dress.

"Mmm-ah, no. Yero, if something's bothering you, I have a right to know."

Her husband raised an eyebrow. "Somebody is acting awfully hypocritical today. But here, I have an idea; you…me…in bed…"

"Oh, stop it! I really want to know, darling, so please. _Tell_me!"

"I…oh, alright," he relented, "but you have to promise me something."

"Yes, yes, anything," Elphaba said impatiently.

"You will not do any of your rash, impulsive things after I'm through."

"Of course not, so-"

"_Promise_ me, Elphaba," Fiyero persisted.

"Sure, I-"

"Fae, I'm serious. You have to _really_ promise."

Elphaba sighed. "Fine, I _really _promise," she said and leaned over to kiss him. "There. Do you believe me now?"

"Yes, I um…I think I do," he replied, smiling, but his grin faded as he began to tell her of the news. "Today, as I was taking a brief rest, I saw a whole troop of Gale Forcers pounding into the forest. I immediately rushed after them and managed to get ahead. To my relief, they weren't headed toward the cabin, but their presence intrigued me nonetheless. So I crept closer toward them and was able to listen to their conversation…and…"

"What? _What_?"

"Madame Morrible has escaped from prison."

Elphaba gaped at Fiyero in horror. "Oh Oz, that's horrible. What if she figures out where we are? What if she tries to hurt Glinda? What if-" She paused. "Oh no. No. Yero, no, oh, don't tell me…"

Fiyero pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her tight, as if making sure no one could get to her. "I'm sorry Fae, but Glinda was kidnapped."


	5. Chapter 4: Genuine Concern

**Author's Note: **Time really flies by, you know. Seriously. :P  
So…well, I hope you like this chapter! It's not like, exciting or anything, but it's necessary. I rather like it. Except for the fact that I think the characters may be OoC, so I'll just let you all be the judge of that.  
And I've decided to hold a reader's poll from now on. :D So this week's thinger: the origins of your penname and your favorite scene from Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. If you've read it, of course. If you haven't, then you're exempt from this poll.

I hope you all had a good April Fool's/Easter/Passover/other. Now read, review, and enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: Last night…I had a dream. I found myself in a heaven – called WickedJelly-owns-Wicked Land. It was bliss, I was famous beyond my wildest dreamings and I was – happy. Then, out of the abyss, walked a Cow – reality. I asked if my profit from Wicked had increased in the last week.  
She said, "Dream on."  
…darn.

**Title**: Whatever Way Stories End  
**Rating**: T  
**Summary:** Boq has been having some strange dreams: Glinda goes missing. His best friends are...alive? Then one of his dreams comes true and he is forced to rely on the others to provide him with the help he needs. But with if that help isn't what he expected?

* * *

After Fiyero informed her of Glinda's abduction, Elphaba was shocked into silence; a rare occurrence for one who was normally quite outspoken. She had never entertained the idea of Glinda being kidnapped, especially since she no longer had relations with her green friend. But come on, now. Why _her_? Did Glinda seriously give off a bad vibe that was strong enough to cause someone to want to kidnap her? Sure, she was materialistic, but her concern for people was genuine, no matter how much she tried to hide it behind her "air-headed" personality. The only somewhatplausible incentive of an abduction of someone like Glinda would be her lavish – and extremely expensive, Elphaba guessed correctly – gowns. But no one would do that. So what, then? 

Whatever the case, Elphaba knew that Glinda, her best friend, needed saving; she also knew the Gale Force would be as much help as Glinda had been during that damned fire, way back when.

So basically, there was only one person fit for the job.

"I have to go help her," Elphaba blurted. "_We_ have to. We're leaving now."

"Whoa there, my dear, slow down. Remember? You promised not to do anything."

Elphaba shot up out of her seat and glared at him venomously. "And you expect me to honor that after what you've told me? You call rescuing my defenseless best friend from kidnappers that most likely have a serious intent on harming her _brash_ and _spontaneous_?" she snapped.

"Well, yes! Have you forgotten that we're fugitives, Fae? You're wanted for a great sum of money because you're a witch, I because I'm with you. We've hid so well for these past couple years and I don't want to ruin all of that."

"Fiyero! She's my best friend for Ozsake's," Elphaba replied angrily. "I'm not going to let Glinda get hurt to save my own ass. I'm not _selfish_ like that."

"And my wanting you safe is selfish?" said Fiyero quietly.

The green woman's temper calmed instantly and she smiled. "Oh no, my dearest Yero, no. Not at all," she said and kissed him lightly on the lips, "but I'm old enough to fend for myself. I appreciate your concern; honestly, I do. But I'm a big girl who can handle herself just fine."

"I'm not questioning your ability to take care of yourself, _Elphaba_. I know you can and I know you have. But there are people out there, cruel people, who are bigger and stronger and tougher than you."

"So? I'll just out-tough them, then. _Honestly_ Fiyero, sometimes you just have to let me make my own decisions," Elphaba huffed.

"_Honestly_ Elphaba," Fiyero mimicked. "Is it too much to ask for you to listen to me for once? For you to keep your promises?"

"I – oh, you are just so infuriating!" Elphaba screeched and stomped off to their bedroom. Fiyero sighed in defeat; he knew if he left her alone she would probably run off and do something stupid. So he went to their bedroom to apologize and then he was forgiven and then they kissed and they kissed and they kissed and they forgot all their troubles.

- - -

As Boq felt consciousness return to his body, he popped open an eye to survey his surroundings and…

_Whoa._

He opened his other eye to affirm that what he saw before him was more than a mirage and to his delight, it was. The Munchkin cracked a grin as he eyed the dozen or so people standing before him with – get this – genuine _concern_ written all over their faces.

Because _concern_? For him? From someone other than his wife? It was new – and something he wouldn't mind getting used to.

"Sir, are you feeling any better? Do you need any medicine or something to drink? Something to eat?" asked a nurse.

Heck yes, he could get most definitely get used to this.

"No, thank you," he said. "Although then again, since you asked, I guess I could use some water. Please."

"Yes, sir."

Another nurse stepped up to him and felt for his pulse, then his forehead. "Are you sure you're not feeling ill? Because if you are you should stay in bed and rest for a day or two. Or three."

"I feel fine, really," Boq assured the nurse, and it was true. "So unless you have a reason to suggest the opposite, I'll be getting up in a few minutes."

"But, sir? You fainted."

"I was quite aware of that, thank you, but fainting does not necessarily imply one is ill. It could imply one ismalnourished – of which I am not, so don't look at me like that! – or tired. And I _am_ tired, but only that…" he paused, trying to remember the dream he'd had. It gave him the same feeling the previous ones had, and one of those had actually come true. So…wait.

That meant Elphaba and Fiyero were _alive_.

To the small crowd's surprise, Boq promptly threw the covers aside and sprung out of bed, managing to get his boots on in the process. "Forget the water. Lopcan? Where's Lopcan? I want Lopcan, please."

Within clock ticks the Gale Forcer appeared at the door, bemused. "You called for me?"

"We're going on a trip so pack some clothes and food and…stuff. Oh, and prepare two horses for us. Are we clear?"

"Yes, but, um..." Lopcan started, looking rather flustered, "where are we–"

"Just pack. Prepare for a week, maybe, two at most."

Okay, so Boq didn't know _where_, exactly, he – they – were going. But that was fine with him; he knew he had finally found the help he needed.

Half an hour later, Boq arrived at the stable and was delighted to see a handsome stallion – the finest horse he had ever seen – all hitched up for his own usage. Another horse nearly as handsome as his own stood nearby, already occupied by its user.

"Thank you for getting this guy ready," said Boq. "But this horse! He's awesome."

"Only the best for you," Lopcan replied, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Boq rolled his eyes. "Of course." Wow, he felt really special now. Just goes to show that people will worship anyone who decides to lead them. "But I forgot about hunting tools. Did you bring any? Because I know we'll need some."

"Yes, I did, but…Boq. Where in Oz are we _going_?"

"I know who can help us even though I once thought them dead…" As he voiced his plan, Boq suddenly realized how ridiculous it sounded. He was relying on a _dream_ to get him somewhere? A somewhere that, if it actually existed, was the "lair" of the Wicked Witch and her spouse? And how would Lopcan, a Gale Forcer told to hate the Wicked Witch, react when – if – he saw her? Oh goodness, this was ridiculous. But… "We're going somewhere to some people that will help us find Glinda. I know it. You'll just have to trust me," Boq said firmly.

"Well, okay," Lopcan said doubtfully. "If you're sure."

- - -

Her feet hurt like hell, her face stung, and her mouth was as dry as a baked walnut. That's all Glinda knew. She'd been walking for what seemed like an eternity in her heels, guided by some guy who had been grasping her wrist firmly all the way.

Oh yeah. Her wrist hurt, too.

She had no idea where they were taking her, or even who "they" were. All "they" had told her as of yet was that she was a bitch and later, that, she "needn't worry; Dunce will take care of you."

Of course, considering how they had kidnapped her, the last statement was highly questionable. And really, so was the first.

Glinda tried to ease the grip on her wrist just a tad to get the blood flowing to her almost-numb fingers but her captor noticed this and slapped her for the seventh time that day. She groaned inwardly in defeat, trying not to let her watering eyes overflow.

"You bitch! Don't you ever pull that again," the man growled.

"Well, where are we going?" Glinda asked.

"That's none of your concern. And if I hear you open that damned mouth of yours _one more time_ I will make sure you can't for the rest of the trip. Are we–"

"Rahill! Hurry up, man, we're almost halfway," someone called from up ahead.

"Oh, thank _goodness_," Rahill – her captor, Glinda reckoned – muttered. "My feet are killing me."

Glinda had a strong urge to kick him in the groin and show him how much _her_ feet were killing her. Honestly, had _he _ever walked over three miles in heels before? No? She didn't think so.

About ten minutes later, she felt the hold on her hand sharply jerk her back. Glinda stumbled backward and would have fallen if Rahill hadn't pulled her back up.

She'd rather have fallen.

"Now listen here," he whispered harshly. "We have to get where we want to without you being seen. So we're going to put you in a wagon and throw bags of stuff over you. Okay?"

Glinda only blinked in response and flinched as he lifted her up onto the wagon. Moments later she found herself scarcely able to breathe, what with all the dust circulating throughout the air, as bag after bag of materials were thrown sloppily on top of her. And the fact that she had more than a hundred pounds of _stuff_ on top of her made it even harder to breathe.

Now that she had some time alone to think, she suddenly realized the whole seriousness of her situation. She was with strange people who wanted to hurt her. That in itself was enough to make her stomach flip. Add on the fact that her husband wasn't even there to comfort her…and that was a recipe for disaster.

She shifted uncomfortably; one of the bags over her legs contained straw and was constantly pricking at her legs through her dress.

This was becoming one of those moments where Glinda cursed her lack of eyesight. If she could see, then she would have been able to know where she was and where she had been. Maybe. And she would know who she was with. Oh Oz, this was horrible. She just wanted to be home with Boq, who was probably worried sick about her. She missed him so much. Tears threatened to spill over her eyelids and so she let them. She knew she would look monstrous later on, but she didn't care what she looked like to these people. She just wanted to go home.

* * *

**Author's Postscript, Containing the Results of The Wicked Challenge**: 

-triumphant music-

At last, I have the results! Although I still don't have them scored, but I plan on adding some commentary to the scores so you'll just have to excuse my extreme-tardiness. I won't post the amount of votes you got so you'll just have to PM me for that info (if you want it). Just remember that only a few – very few – people voted so if your number isn't high, don't feel bad. In fact, even the winners' numbers aren't very high. :P But they won nevertheless! As for prizes…well, I honestly have no idea. I can't very well fly across the border and hand you a six foot tin of cookies, so virtual desserts will just have to do. Unless, of course, anyone has a suggestion…-looks pointedly at readers-

Winners:

Challenge One:  
Write a one-shot taking place during I'm Not That Girl (Reprise) in which Glinda thinks about…anything! Must include the following three words: cake, color, and conspiracy.

**Porcelain**** by ****Meltalviel****  
"Love, Glinda decided, was like porcelain. TWC"**

Challenge Three:  
Write a one-shot Fiyero/Elphaba romance. Whether their relationship has just begun or has fully blossomed, it doesn't matter. Must contain the phrases, "wildest dreaming(s)" and "borrow the moonlight", but loosely.

**Fatal Attraction**** by Fae2135  
"'It's terribly dangerous to need anyone the way I need you. Let yourself need someone like that, and before you know it, it becomes impossible to exist without them.' My contribution to TWC the Wicked Challenge. See prompt inside. Oneshot, bookverse."**

Challenge Five:  
Any friendship pairing you want, but must contain the words: trinket, feather, and duck.

**Violent Wiggles**** by CardboardCreative  
****"'I think Galinda's being murdered!' she exclaimed to her nightgown clad roommates, 'I'm going to pray!' Response to WickedJelly's Wicked challenges only read if you feel silly. FLUFFY ENDING."**

Yeah-uh! Give them a pat on the back, por favor. And an extra cookie. Or two or three. THEY'RE THE SHIZ-NIT!

Shiz-nit  
(c) 2007 by CardboardCreative


	6. Chapter 5: Potato

**Author's Note: **Ew, I know I've said this time and time again, but this chapter? I just can't get it right. I seriously need some writing skills. -sniffles- So please: concrit all you want.  
And to add on to my misfortune, there's NO PMING! I may make my sweet time in replying to them, but I still love them. Lots. And now I'm all lonely. -sniff- I love you all, by the way.  
I need a life. :P  
And stupid me: I started a new story. Except it's okay, cos I have figured out how to better manage my time. Hah.  
But ugh. The Musicals/Plays section is getting worse and worse. STUPID NON-RULE FOLLOWERS!  
And…yay, this took me less than ten days. YAY! Go me. Go me.  
And…will people wish me luck that I get into Show Choir? Please? Even though my dancing skills are equivalent to that of a stereotypical white's (i.e., nonexistent), I would like to get in. You know, much better than being in Concert Choir.  
So read, review, and enjoy! (And more author's stuff at the bottom.)

**Disclaimer**: Last night…I had a dream. I found myself in a heaven – called WickedJelly-owns-Wicked Land. It was bliss, I was famous beyond my wildest dreamings and I was – happy. Then, out of the abyss, walked a Cow – reality. I asked if my profit from Wicked had increased in the last week.  
She said, "Dream on."  
…darn.

**Title**: Whatever Way Stories End  
**Rating**: T  
**Summary:** Boq has been having some strange dreams: Glinda goes missing. His best friends are...alive? Then one of his dreams comes true and he is forced to rely on the others to provide him with the help he needs. But with if that help isn't what he expected?

* * *

It had been two hours since Boq and Lopcan left the Emerald City and Now the sun was setting along the horizon just as they reached the beginnings of The Great Gillikin Forest. Boq looked over at the Gale Forcer and saw that his eyebrows were furrowed in deep thought. 

"Something wrong?"

"You know…we shouldn't go in there when it's dark," the soldier responded, slow in choosing his words. "We should wait. Stay here overnight."

Boq threw him an incredulous look. "Why not? Are you–"

"I'm nothing. I just don't think it's safe to go galloping about in a forest at night. I can't have you hurt, you know," Lopcan reasoned.

"That's a good point, but…can we spare the time?"

"Of course! We can't travel if we can't see a thing."

"No, we can't…okay, so we'll stop here tonight," Boq acquiesced, "but we should be up by dawn."

"Fine with me," Lopcan responded as he dismounted his horse with ease. Boq did the same, only with less grace.

"So, what are our sleeping arrangements?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Well, since two horses aren't able to carry a tent and its materials, I brought two quilts and a canvas to lie over."

"That's it?" Boq squeaked. "What about the…um, the things that come out at night? What if they–"

"Sweet Oz, Boq! A mere tent wouldn't shield you from a bear."

"But at least it would give me a sense of security."

"You mean a _false_ sense of security."

Boq paused before saying, "But is there anything else we can sleep on? Or under?"

"Oh, fine. I'll arrange so that we're sleeping under, not over, the canvas. Are we good now?"

"Yeah, but we would be sleeping over bugs," Boq whimpered.

Lopcan closed his eyes and took a few clock ticks to maintain his calm composure. "I'm hungry. Let's cook some of the potatoes I brought so we won't wake up starving."

"Fine," Boq relented, watching as the Gale Forcer gathered two rocks and some dry leaves. He dumped the leaves in a small pile and then rubbed one rock on top of the other. Boq continued to watch, awestruck, as sparks flew off the stones and onto the dry leaves; the leaves were actually on _fire_. Whoa.

"Wow, that's _amazing_," Boq breathed. "Teach me to do that someday?"

"Um, sure. You've never learned how to build a fire?"

"Nope."

"Not even in your early schoolings as an Oz Scout or whatever?"

"The leader of our group kicked me out when I was ten," said Boq sadly.

"May I ask why?"

"Well…" Boq paused. "No. You may not."

"Oh," Lopcan said, grinning. He didn't think it was the right time to say he had earned all his badges and graduated with high honors so instead, he grabbed two potatoes from a burlap sack and gave one to Boq. They both inserted a stick into the side of their potato and began to cook them over the fire Lopcan had made.

They cooked their meal in silence. But Boq was fine with that because his mind was doing plenty of talking already. Like…

Did he seriously believe that he, a lowly Munchkinlander, was going to trek through an enormous forest to find two dead people to help him save his wife? Was he really expecting a happily ever after? Did he really think those DUNCE people would hand over his wife, unscathed?

The last thought brought in images, horrible images. Images of Glinda, chained to a wall. Glinda, emaciated and bloodied. Glinda, tied to a stake, screaming, as angry flames threatened to eat away at her delicate flesh…

"Boq? Um, Boq? Your potato. Boq, your potato. Goddammit, your _potato_!"

"Wha–?" Boq's head snapped up and he saw his potato. Which was pretty much engulfed in flames. "Oh, whoops." He hastily withdrew his potato from the fire and blew at the flames until all that remained was a blackened potato. He shuddered, praying this wasn't a foreshadowing.

Boq glanced over at Lopcan's potato which was a delicious light-brown in color and looked much more appealing.

"Would you like mine?"

Boq blinked. "Want what?"

"My potato."

"Your potato? Oh, no, thanks. Mine is…mine is fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Yeah, just too bad he hated anything and everything that was burnt.

"Alright then, I guess I'll just–"

"Wait! I – I want it. If you don't mind, that is."

"And I don't mind at all," Lopcan responded, smiling, and handed the Munchkin his potato.

Once both their stomachs were moderately full, Lopcan went to set up their sleeping area. He conveniently forgot to put up a ceiling-of-sorts but Boq didn't mind; he had gotten a delicious potato.

- - -

It had been hours…days?...and Glinda was starving. For all the time they'd been traveling she hadn't been given any food; not even a bread crumb. She hadn't had more than eight hours of sleep. So not only was she hungry, but she was exhausted as well. And then, if you wanted to hear the full extent of her misfortune, her back was killing her. Just try lying under a hundred pounds of _stuff_ as a wooden wagon rolled over the bumpiest terrain in all of Oz, and your back would be hurting, too. There were a million and one more things she wanted to complain about, but she didn't. She couldn't. After all, she had no one to complain _to_.

Oh, but wait, lucky her: she did have company, only too bad it came in the form of a gross rat whose tail just brushed against her cheek. Glinda yelped and shied as far away from the rodent as she could. She then realized, with a sense of dread, that the wagon was now stationary and braced her for the punishment she was sure to receive.

Sure enough, the weight on top of her lessened and a female voice – one that, she noted, sounded familiar – filled her ears.

"Dearie, I thought you had clearly understood that you were not to say a word."

"No one said that to me," Glinda replied truthfully, "so I don't see what the problem is."

"Shut _up,_ you useless bitch."

Glinda clenched her teeth. "You will _not_ speak to me that way," she said, furious. Clock ticks later two hands, wrinkled with age, encircled her neck, blocking any oxygen from reaching her lungs. Glinda felt her face grow hot as she choked for air, thrashing out to dislodge her captor's hands from her throat. But her actions proved to be ineffective and when the woman said something about "learning to hold her tongue", Glinda's thoughts turned to Elphaba, her deceased best friend. Green, never-afraid-to-speak-her-mind Elphaba, whom she had loved in the way best friends loved each other. And Green Elphie's face floated around inside her head until it disappeared into blackness.

**

* * *

Author's Postscript Entailing More Poll Stuff:  
**Okay, here are my answers:  
1. My favorite scene from Wicked (the book) is the scene in which "the trees are dropping their fruits early". In which Boq is the fruit.  
2. I changed my penname to make it even more fantastical, but anyway: the origins of my penname are that Jelly is my nickname, and I like Wicked. Creative, I know, but I've always had people ask me that so I decided to tell…  
New question: Your favorite hobby and TV Show. Okay, here are my answers:1. My favorite scene from Wicked (the book) is the scene in which "the trees are dropping their fruits early". In which Boq is the fruit.2. I changed my penname to make it even more fantastical, but anyway: the origins of my penname are that Jelly is my nickname, and I like Wicked. Creative, I know, but I've always had people ask me that so I decided to tell…New question: Your favorite hobby and TV Show. 


	7. Chapter 6: Apple Tree

**Author's Note: **In my prowlings about the site's forums and various other Fanfiction/writing-tip sites, I have come across some very valuable information:  
Putting in multiple disclaimers is annoying. All you need is the token one in your first chapter and you're good to go! So, lest I appear annoying and unauthorical, out go the disclaimers and the story information. (I also learned that long Author's Notes are a big no-no, but…what can I say? Old habits die hard. Really hard. In fact, they don't die at all.)  
Hahaha! So I was writing this when I was sick and…lmao, well, let's just say that you might find one of the parts later in the chapter very stupid. Cos I know I do. :D But I was laughing as I wrote it and decided that we need some humor in here!  
Whoa – my computer is officially insane. It says "love" is a misspelling. And "hello". AH! So I apologize for any misspellings.  
Read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

Lopcan yawned as he woke from his slumber and stretched his arms over his head. Because Boq had said they were leaving at dawn, he gently nudged the Munchkin's shoulder. 

"Already?" Boq groaned, then hoisted himself up to a sitting position. "I feel like I haven't slept more than two or three hours."

"Well, it's been eight hours; are you feeling ill again? 'Cause if you are, you know, we can always turn back."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lopcan. I feel ripe as a peach."

"It can take awhile for a peach to ripen."

Boq chose not to reply and instead walked out of the tent; he didn't have time for Lopcan's senseless doubts. But when the Gale Forcer came running after him, saying he "shouldn't endanger his health", Boq whirled around, furious.

"I don't have the fucking patience for your screwed-up belief that I shouldn't move a damn muscle in my body for fear of killing myself. I just _don't_. My wife could be dead right now for all I know because _you_ were too fucking scared about our safety and I'm _tired_ of that, Lopcan, I'm sick and tired of that.

"Everyone is always treating me like I'm some little boy who can't stand up for himself against a bully. And so okay, maybe I couldn't when I was young, but how am I supposed to learn to fend for myself when no one even gives me a chance? When they all assume that because I'm just a little short I don't know how to do anything for myself?" He paused. "Well, that's wrong – _Glinda_ gave me a chance. _Glinda_ believes in me. In fact, Glinda _loves_ me. Can you believe that?" Boq gave a short, bitter laugh. "Someone actually loves me…_me_…a lowly Munchkinlander. And I love her all the more for it. Oh Oz, I love Glinda…" His words trailed off as and his eyes glazed over for a clock tick before returning to normal. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bog you down like that. Just…let's just go."

And, after packing up their small camp, they did just that.

- - -

They were galloping through the trees at full speed when Boq pulled on his reins.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to an apple tree. Wrapped around its trunk was a strand of black fabric.

"It looks like someone is using that fabric as a means of identification," Lopcan said and trotted closer to the tree. "You know, like using bread crumbs to mark one's trail. And if you look closer, most of the apples have been plucked recently and there are footprints all around here."

Sure enough, a set of footprints led to the tree and then circled around the area before leading off through the woods.

Boq felt a smile settle on his face; something good _had_ to come of this. "I think…I think we should follow them."

"Are you – oh, never mind. Let's go."

- - -

Fiyero snuggled closer to Elphaba under the sheets and rubbed his hand over her smooth, bare skin.

"Morning, love," he whispered. It was only seven in the morning but she had this thing where she had to wake up at seven every Saturday. His initial reaction to this abnormality – a woman? Awake at _seven_ in the morning? – had been to ignore it, let her sleep in if she was still asleep.

Yeah, well, turns out that wasn't such a good idea. One morning her mental clock was off and she awoke at seven thirty. When she found out the time, she nearly exploded. But as per usual, she calmed down a few hours later and they were back to their life as a happily married couple. A couple days later he had asked her why she was so intent on waking so early in the morning, and she had said she had no reason. So it was just one of those woman things.

"Morning," she replied, allowing her husband a brief kiss before getting out of bed. "You know," she continued, "I think today is a good day for apple picking."

"Already? I just went yesterday," Fiyero said.

"But if I recall correctly, you came in the door with only five apples and a good amount of juice dribbling down your chin. Not to mention your hands were horribly sticky."

Fiyero gave her an impish grin. "They were a really good batch."

"You would think so," Elphaba said dryly. "Anyway, so I'll go out later this morning. You don't have to come if you don't want."

"Oh, but I–"

"No, really, I'll be okay."

Fiyero raised an eyebrow and looked at her, doubt evident in his eyes. "Elphaba," he said seriously, "Fae. I thought we already went over this."

"Went over what?" she asked, blushing.

"You are _not_ running after Glinda, do you hear me? You are staying here with me even if…if…if I have to magic-spell you."

Elphaba laughed. "You don't know any more magic than I do."

"Fae…"

"Alright, alright. I won't go after Glinda and I wasn't even thinking of it."

"Fae…"

"Okay, so I was. Whatever. But I'm over it. I promise I'll only pick apples."

"You promise?" Fiyero said.

"I promise."

- - -

It was official now: whatever could hurt, _did_ hurt – she was about to say '_except for my heart_' but her heart _was _pretty much broken. And it didn't help that she was in no situation to remedy any of her pains. She had expected someone to help her, rescue her, days ago but now that she'd been gone for just that…she figured any rescuing would have to be done by herself. Or some stranger who realized that, Oz help them, _Glinda the Good_ was lying under bags of straw. For Oz's sake, was no one smart enough to realize that no one in their right mind would travel for miles with bags of straw in their wagon? That straw wasn't even an item of trade?

After Glinda had blacked out, whoever had been the cause of her blackout had put her back under all the aforementioned bags. So she was lying on the hard, wooden base of the wagon – you know, basic relaxation techniques – when the wagon stopped. She thought it was to punish her or something, but the only voice she heard was that of a Gale Forcer's. She couldn't make out his every word but was able to get the gist of what he said.

"What is…purpose?"

Then Rahill's: "Trade."

"…wagon?"

"…straw and…"

"How…staying…"

"…a week."

They exchanged a few more words that were incoherent to Glinda before resuming their travel. It took awhile for Glinda to understand the importance of the conversation but when she did, she gasped:

Border Control.

- - -

Elphaba had left half an hour earlier to do some apple picking, leaving Fiyero with nothing to do. He entertained the thought of starting a journal but figured he'd never write in it. Plus, it wasn't exactly the manliest thing a man could do. So if he wanted manly, he thought, he should lift weights. It wasn't something a woman like Elphaba would verbally appreciate – or perhaps appreciate at all – but hey, it was worth a try.

Fiyero set off to find something heavy to lift but to his disappointment, found nothing suitable for his needs.

That is, nothing _Elphaba_ would consider suitable.

He eyed their wooden table thoughtfully; there was no harm in trying.

He cleared off their dishes from breakfast and then, bracing himself, lifted the table with as much strength as he could muster…

…and the table practically flew to the ceiling. Gosh, Fiyero hadn't planned on the table being so lightweight, so did this mean he was stronger than he thought?

He set the table back down and had an epiphany: their bed. So he headed toward their bedroom. Thinking that if a table was so lightweight that a bed couldn't be much worse, he tried to lift the bed. Except it was kind of heavy. He lifted it again and managed to get it about a centimeter off the ground.

For the next twenty minutes Fiyero did nothing but continuous bed-lifting. Then, once he was exhausted, he went back into their sitting room and clumped down onto their couch before realizing something: Elphaba had been gone for more than her allotted hour.

Shit.

Fiyero ran to the door but was knocked to the ground when the door flung open, hitting him in the head.

"Fae?" he asked, rubbing his throbbing forehead. "Lurline, why the hurry? Miss me much?"

Good. So she hadn't launched a Glinda rescue mission.

"Oh Oz, Fiyero!" Elphaba shrieked.

"Don't worry, Fae, I'll be okay. Just a minor bruise."

"No, no, not that," she said and ran into their bedroom. Fiyero followed her and watched in bewilderment as she threw some clothes into a sack.

"Elphaba, what's wrong?"

No answer.

"What's _wrong_?" he repeated impatiently.

"Wrong?" she said as she took a clock tick to tie her hair back. "What's wrong?"

"Yes, 'what's wrong?'"

"What's wrong," she said, giving him a fearful look, "is that we've been found."

* * *

**Author's POLL TIME!:  
**I like to sing. I like to sing and act in Musical Theater. I like to write. I like to PM (PM WHORE!). I like to eat. (/useless ramblings)  
So this week's question is, "what's your basic writing process?" Like, do you write in notebooks, research, etcetera. 


	8. Chapter 7: All Alone

**Author's Note: **-cheers- I'm on a roll, guys, I'm on a roll! And I'm not talking some plain, pop-in-the-microwave dinner roll. Nay, I'm talking some fine, crispy, full-of-buttery goodness Italian rolls!  
Anywho, I'm really happy cos we're finally reaching all the good stuff. And I totally love – no sarcasm here – how I have a fixed set of reviewers. I always know who I'm going to be hearing from:) So cool, you can all be my minions, only you'll all have brains and I won't turn into a dictator, I promise.  
And again, this is one of those chapters where it sounded perfectly fine on paper but horrible on screen, so. Anyone want to be my BETA? I need a someone with, preferably, equal to or better writing skills than mine; I don't just want a BETA who goes, "good job!" And we would correspond by PMs. Okay? Okay. :) Just PM me about it or…something.  
Read, review, and enjoy!

* * *

There was a house, just like the one in his dream.

Only he wasn't dreaming.

Boq nearly shouted in excitement when he saw it. He had found it, he had found it, he had found it, and all on his own.

"Is this what you were looking for?" Lopcan said from behind.

"Yes, it is."

"Then um…do you want to knock on the door?"

Boq climbed down from his horse and made his way over to the door He rapped on it three times but there was no answer.

"Hello?" he called, "is there anybody home? It's me. Boq. You know, your friend from Shiz University?" The instant he said those words he wished to take them back; what if this wasn't really their home? Ah, well.

He circled around the house's exterior and found that it showed all signs of recent usage. So either someone was hiding from him or no one was home. Well, in either case, he'd just sit here and wait until someone showed up.

"Lopcan, we'll stay here for awhile. It's already – oh, eleven o' clock, maybe? – so we can just spend the rest of the day here. Besides, I'm getting hungry."

"Fine with me."

The Gale Forcer removed a loaf of bread from his sack and tore off a piece before handing it to Boq. Like their lunch the day before, they ate in silence. This time, however, Boq was filled with happy thoughts. He wasn't at all put off by the fact there was nobody there because someone _would_ return, he knew it.

"Boq?"

"Mmhmm?" he replied.

"I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" Boq turned to look and Lopcan and felt a sudden wave of anxiety; the soldier's expression was somber but his eyes were despondent and full of fear.

"It's serious, Boq, something very serious and I fully understand the consequence of telling you what I'm about to tell you. But now that we're friends, I've changed. After what you told me yesterday…I…I knew that what I once believed to be right was wrong – very wrong – and I can't continue to live happily without confessing what I've done."

"Tell me," Boq said, "but I'm not promising anything."

"I know," Lopcan said solemnly, "but Boq?"

"What?" Boq asked and closed his eyes in anticipation.

Lopcan took a deep breath. "I'm a member of DUNCE."

- - -

"Shit," Elphaba managed to say between pants, "shit, shit, shit, shit, _shit_."

"It'll be fine," Fiyero said.

"No, it won't. We don't have anywhere to go and all of our stuff is back there and we can't _go_ back there or we'll be arrested for treason. Oh Oz, all that hard work for nothing." Her voice broke on the last word and she fell into her husband's arms, full as they were. He dropped all he was holding and pulled Elphaba into an embrace.

"My darling, beautiful Fae, it'll be alright. We'll find somewhere to go just as we always have and always will. There's nothing to worry about and you _know_ all I need is you. We can go anywhere as long as you're mine. You know that, right?"

A slight nod from Elphaba.

"Right. But now we really do have to mosey along if have intent on living, let alone finding another place to live. C'mon, dear." Fiyero gently pushed his wife away and picked up what he had dropped. He gave her a short nudge before resuming his walking. After awhile, however, his pace had been slowing so as to match with Elphaba's and he knew it was time for rest, even though it had only been about forty minutes.

"We'll make ourselves a little makeshift home for the rest of the day so we can move by night, alright?"

"What are you talking about? I'm perfectly okay." Elphaba wiped the sweat that had accumulated over her lip.

"That's the exact same thing you said during the Fall Ball before you tripped."

"Oh, shut up."

"So you agree," Fiyero said.

"I don't know what has gotten into me! I used to be able to walk for miles without tiring but now…it's like I haven't walked a mile in my life." She finished with a loud groan.

"Maybe you're just tired."

Elphaba sighed. "Maybe you're right."

They wandered about for awhile more before coming upon a cornfield with stalks nearly six feet high and after exchanging a look of mutual consent, made their way about a quarter into the field. Fiyero spent the next couple of minutes tearing down stalks so they could have a small area to settle down on. He then removed a sheet he had thrown into his bag and spread it out on the dirt; the ground was littered with various small rocks and straw that would be uncomfortable to sleep on.

"You sure this isn't private property?" Elphaba asked, slumping into Fiyero's arms as fatigue seeped into her limbs.

"Negative."

"Oh. But are you sure they won't find us here?"

"Well, _that_ I'm positive about. But really, love, just stop worrying for once and relax."

"But–"

"Elphaba–"

"But how did they know? Have they been…" Her next thought brought chills down her spine. "Have they been _watching_ us?"

Fiyero ran his hands through her hair. "I don't know and I don't care. They're far behind us right now and by the time they come even remotely close to where we are now we'll be long gone." He then paused, carefully piecing together his next words. "You know, I've been wondering if perhaps it's in our best interest to slip past Oz's border."

"You mean _leave_ Oz forever?"

He hesitated. "Err…not forever, no, but…well, maybe."

"But what about Glinda?" Elphaba exclaimed.

"Glinda? We have to–"

"Forget about her? My best friend? Yero, we _can't_ leave her." Fiyero felt her tense under his grip and knew he had to quench the growing argument before it escalated into something much worse.

"Look: we won't forget about her. In fact…" Oh Oz, he was sure to regret this. "In fact, we can go out looking for her. You know, now that we're already forced out of hiding for awhile. _But_," he added, raising a finger in warning, "only for a week. If we don't have any substantial lead by then we're turning around. Are we clear?"

"Lurline, yes, _yes_! Can we start tomorrow?"

"I don't see why not."

Elphaba grinned and threw her lips onto his as a thank you.

…Okay, so, maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.

- - -

The wagon slowed to a halt, having been moving non-stop ever since they left Border Control. All Glinda could do – as if anyone needed another reminder – was lie under all the bags of straw as she rolled farther and father away from Oz, fear clenched in her stomach.

She was not in Oz anymore. No one was coming for her. She was all alone. No one was _ever _coming for her. No one here would know who she was. She was all alone–

Her worrisome thoughts were interrupted when Rahill's coarse hand wrapped around her wrist and jerked her up.

"You – come with me," he hissed. Having no other choice, Glinda obliged.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Rahill stopped abruptly and twisted her wrist, making her yelp, so far back that she was forced to turn around into his chest. His breath was hot down her neck and she squirmed, uncomfortable with his close proximity. "You don't ever shut up, do you? I've told you time and time again to keep that pretty little mouth of yours closed but you _never_ listen. I wish I had the authority to kill you now versus later because I just can't stand how…"

But Glinda had stopped listening to his tirade. Oh…oh, _oh_, the Unnamed God…

They were going to kill her.

Of course, she had had her suspicions but having her small thoughts form into words, hearing them come from someone's mouth, made it real. Very real. So here she was, facing reality…

She was going to die.

And not with people who loved her, either. No, she was going to die at the hands if people who hated her because she was _Glinda_, because she was _good_. Because she, unlike most of Oz, actually cared about their rights. Everyone's rights.

"…you don't even have the courtesy to listen to my complaints! Bitch. You know, when I was working for you, I–" He paused and Glinda knew he had spoken too much.

And that was all she needed to hear. Oh, she understood everything now. She scolded herself for having not known earlier. First of all, he had been the only guard she'd kept from Morrible's "reign". He had, after all, sworn by the Oziadand wasn't a direct adversary in any of those anti-Animal groups. Well, not that she'd known of.

Then there was Rahill. The name. If you rearranged the letters around, it was an anagram of Hillar.

"You're a traitor," Glinda spat.

Rahill laughed – a long, malicious laugh – and replied, "Me? A traitor? Just remember who made you Glinda the 'Good' and maybe you'll rethink that."

"That doesn't matter," Glinda said, trying to prevent the lump in her throat from shaking her speech. "I – I trusted you and yet you were one of Morrible's followers the whole time?"

"Yup! And you were too stupid to figure it out," Hillar – Rahill – said cheerfully, "and for the record, I don't deserve all that traitorous credit 'cause I wasn't the only one."

Glinda narrowed her eyes. "Who. Else."

"Lopcan! But he's not here because he has to work with Boq."

At this Glinda emitted a loud gasp and a sour, bile-like taste rose to her throat. "Don't…don't hurt him, please," she begged, and then mentally slapped herself for sounding so weak.

"Don't worry; we don't have any plans for him as of now unless, that is, you would like us to–"

"Don't you _dare_."

"It would be easy enough to do," Hillar continued, ignoring her previous statement, "because – forgive me for saying this, but – your husband is a sorry piece of nothing who can't fight for shit. He can't even stand up for himself, let alone you, so I don't know why you like him that much. Or at all. Morrible can't believe it either because apparently you thought him nothing more than a little good-for-nothing Munchkin kid back at your University. And he _is_ scrawny. So you're all alone, Miss Glinda, you're all alone."

And she was.


	9. Chapter 8: Grandmothers

**Author's Note:** SALUTATIONS!! Ugh, it's that time of the year again: tons of state tests, tons of finals, tons of last minute Deterime-Your-Grade projects. Luckily for me, the load isn't all that bad (other than the fact that I have two weeks to get a whole scene from Romeo & Juliet memorized and only my group has to be two characters at the same time and we have to make a whole stupid prompt book and…and…I don't like it!). But I know it's bad for a lot of you other people, so destressify and good luck!  
POLL: Sorry about that; I forgot to do it last time. So – if you could combine different actors/actresses together, what would be your ideal Wicked cast?  
This is going to be one of those Long Author's Notes days. :D I'm so incredibly hyper and…haha! I see TWO UNEATEN PIXIE STICKS from my joint birthday party in November! Must eat them. Pixie Sticks probably taste better with age, anyway. ;) Speaking of Pixie Sticks…well, never mind. I'll just put that stuff at the bottom so only people who really want to read it will read it.  
And a very special thanks to **Meltaviel** for betaing this chapter (-cue applause-) and another thanks to **Fae2135** for being one of my betas. They're what makes the world go 'round, really, and and and and READ REVIEW AND ENOY! REJOICIFY! JUBILTATE!

* * *

Boq was stunned, startled, shocked into silence. Had he heard correctly? Had Lopcan just said– 

"I'm so sorry," the Gale Forcer said. "I know you trusted me and I know I broke that trust, so I'm really sorry. Really."

Boq was still trying to process the fact that someone, someone he _trusted_, could have done something like that to him. "So you lied to me. This whole time. You _betrayed_ me and, even worse, you betrayed Glinda. An Ozian leader. You betrayed _Oz_."

To his surprise, Lopcan started to cry. But the Munchkin was in no mood to comfort a traitor.

"You," he said, his face grim, "will leave me with the supplies and go home, where you will stay and wait for my return. I'll deal with you then."

Lopcan nodded solemnly and walked over to his horse to unhitch the supply bag from the saddle.

"Here." He handed the bag to Boq and then asked, "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I want you to tell me everything you know, starting with: who is DUNCE? And I don't mean that 'Domination under Nobility, Chivalry, and Efficiency' crap."

"Um, DUNCE is an organization that was originally created by Morrible to rid Oz of the Animals. But once she was sent to prison, we – they – got angry and wanted to kill Glinda in retribution and _then_ they would rid Oz of all Animals."

"So they've been planning this for a long time," Boq mused. "What was your part in it?"

"Oh, it really doesn't–"

"_Yes_, it does."

Lopcan sighed. "Fine. My job was to prevent you from finding Glinda, no matter what it took."

"So…that whole 'don't go into the forest at night, Boq!' was all a hoax?"

"Yes, sir," Lopcan said, shifting his feet uncomfortably.

Boq clenched his jaw. "That's wonderful news, Lopcan, really. But now, tell me this: where is Glinda?"

"Um, Glinda? As in, um, your…wife?"

"For Oz sakes, of course! _Where is Glinda_?"

"Well, um, Glinda," Lopcan said slowly, "is not in Oz anymore."

- - -

Glinda was taken into a building, down several flights of stairs, and into a room so cold it raised goosebumps along her bare arms immediately upon entering. She shivered, longing for a pair of warm, Munchkin arms to hold her.

"This is where you'll be staying for the next few days while we prepare for our demonstration," said the old woman, whose identity Glinda had yet to determine.

"What demonstration?" Glinda already knew the answer but asked it regardless, hoping for more information.

The woman laughed, only it wasn't the nice kind of laugh. "The one where _you'll_ be the demonstration, my dear."

"I know." The feeling of nausea returned to her stomach now that, once again, her unfortunate fate had been voiced. "But what _for_?" she asked impatiently.

"Oh, so you have a temper, do you? I'll keep that in mind. But dear, have you honestly no idea who I am?"

"No. I don't. Which is why I want you to _tell me_."

"You haven't much changed since Shiz, have you?" the woman said dryly. "You and your lack of intelligence. You and your equally brainless followers; like the blind leading the blind. Oops, pardon the pun!" The woman laughed at her own joke before continuing. "You always getting everything, _anything_ you want, whenever you want it. But I guess, for one last time, I'll grant you your wish. You see, although I would not tell you why initially…"

_...When you bowed before his throne, he decreed you hence be known as Glinda the _Good_, officially..._

"Oh Oz," Glinda breathed, making the woman smirk. "_Morrible_."

"You're not saying it with enough conviction, my dear."

"So you _are_ Morrible."

"Indeed; aren't you a bright one?" Morrible pinched Glinda's check mockingly. The blonde woman jerked her head back.

"Don't you _touch_ me."

"I'll do whatever I please now that you aren't able to mess around with everything," Morrible snapped. "I may be old but I'm not stupid." She paused, apparently to prevent herself from exploding with suppressed rage. "On another note, would you like to reacquaint with my grandson? I heard you two got off on the wrong foot and I would much prefer if the two of you would sort things out. We're going to spend a whole week together, you know. Grof, dear!" she called. "Stay with Lady Glinda, would you? I need someone to watch over her while I attend to some other tasks."

A few clock ticks later, he replied, "Of course, Grandma."

Glinda flinched at the calling of Morrible "Grandma". Because really, what kind of grandmother figure would be intent on killing a woman – a _blind_ woman at that? For a moment Glinda flitted back to her childhood when she and her grandmother – Florigail Upland or, as Glinda had called her, Grandma Flor – would spend countless summer in her garden, occasionally picking a flower or two to place in their hair. Those were her favorite memories, the ones she shared with her grandmother. Grandma Flor died when Glinda was seven.

Glinda smiled then, forcing herself to think back to happier thoughts. In her earlier days, Florigail had looked exactly like Glinda – well, Galinda – had in her Shiz days: petite, slim, and beautiful with her curly blonde hair. She was the one all the boys flocked to, just like, Glinda thought, herself. But the one thing Florigail had had that Glinda lacked but admired and yearned for was confidence. The kind of confidence and free will Elphaba had had.

The metallic rattle of chains brought Glinda back to reality. She made an attempt to scratch at an itch on her forehead but to her horror, found that her hands were chained to the wall, high above her head. Amidst all her reminiscing they had made sure she had no means of escape. She almost felt like laughing; did they not trust a blind woman on her own?

"Comfortable?" Grof asked.

"How terribly_ decent_ of you," Glinda said, resentment evident in her tone.

"I'm just that kind of guy."

Glinda snorted. "So tell me: how do you plan on killing me?" she asked, shocking even herself. She hadn't intended to ask that question because, quite frankly, she didn't want to be dwelling on it for a week.

"How are we killing you?" Grof repeated after he could quell his own surprise. "We haven't decided on the most effective way yet; that's the purpose of the meeting grandma's in right now."

Oh Oz, that was sick. A meeting dedicated to conjuring different methods to kill someone? Now she _really_ wished she hadn't asked because that was sick, sick, _sick_ – not to mention unsettling as well.

"But why did you take me out of Oz? Why not just…oh, I don't know, assassinate me and be over with?" Okay, now she was really scaring herself.

Grof stared at her in disbelief. "You may be older than me but that doesn't mean you're smarter. Gosh, you're proving to be exactly what Morrible said you were: nothing but a porcelain doll. Beautiful and appealing on the outside but hollow on the inside. You're stupid and you let your best friend die." At her shocked expression, he grinned. "And you're naïve, too! More people know how you were all-too-willing to remain an exalted public figure while your friend up and melts at the hands of a mere farm girl than you think."

Glinda blanched and was just barely able to suppress a sob. "You were only…what? Seven or eight when all that happened?" she said bitterly.

"I was _twelve_," he growled.

"Only twelve when you were drawn into this?" Glinda said, her voice soft. "You poor boy."

Her attempt to placate Grof was thanked with a harsh smack to the face. Glinda cried out in pain and her eyes watered from the sheer force of the impact.

Grof grabbed a hold of a thick lock of golden-blonde curls and said angrily, "Don't you dare try to sympathize with me, Miss I Know Everything. I'm not some little lost boy you can heal with your 'awesome' magick and a few 'kind' words. I know who I am and what I'm doing so don't you tell me otherwise. Would you care to apologize?"

Glinda took in a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Whatev–" He stopped as a voice called for him.

"Grof, man, Morrible wants you."

"All right." He paused and turned back to Glinda. "And I want no funny business, understand? The orders not to touch you at all have been lifted and I will not hesitate to hurt you. Remember that."

Glinda almost said something along the lines of, "Well, you already _have_ hurt me," but restrained herself just in time.

A door slammed, hard, and the noise echoed around the room before becoming an eerie silence. Every so often she would hear an angry shout from some room down one of the various hallways but other than that, there was nothing. Oh, she'd thought the carriage ride was bad? That was nothing compared to this. She felt more alone than she ever had been in her entire life, even more than during that period after Elphie's death and before she'd married Boq. Oz, she'd felt _horrible_ then, wishing that she'd had went with Elphaba. Wishing that she was anybody except herself.

But this? This was much, much worse. Because there was nothing more horrific than knowing you had seven more days to live before you are murdered.

- - -

Lopcan had left an hour earlier, leaving Boq to continue his exploration alone. But the thing was, he had a growing suspicion that no one was coming. No one would ever come. He considered turning back. Then he could relax at home with people who cared about him and had no intent on hurting him or anyone he cared about and he could live happily ever after. The end.

Only, it _would_ be the end. For Glinda. But what if Glinda was dead already? What if she'd been killed before Boq had woken up after the accident and Lopcan had lied to him and had buried Glinda somewhere? Oh, Oz. Boq shuddered and shook his head rapidly, trying to bring himself back to his senses. He had his wife – who was _not_ dead yet – to save.

He was completing a second circle around the small house when he spotted something he hadn't noticed before: footprints. Two sets of footprints. Two sets of, if he remembered correctly from his Oz Scout years, _fresh_ footprints. Meaning someone had just recently left his house.

Meaning he should go after them.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Postscript: **-grins- THE PIXIE STICKS TASTE GREAT! Anyway, so, about them. I was sitting in History class writing in my new Hello Kitty notebook that I bought especially for my Wicked story when I look over and these two girls are like, "Hey, D (some really popular guy who everyone thinks is so amazingly hot and he's nice and kind of smart only he looks like a stoner and talks like one, too. :P)! I dare you to snort a Pixie Stick." …and oh my god, he did. He stuck the Pixie Stick up his nose and snorted it. Then…lmao…his face got all red and his eyes were all watery and he started to have a sneezing attack. Haha, that was the funniest thing in the world! I couldn't help but laugh.  
Other, more Wicked-esque news: I was at a Fine Arts festival and someone had a purse shop where they – get this – made purses from TICKETS AND PLAYBILLS AND PICTURES FROM WICKED! I begged my mom for one except they were kinda-sorta eighty dollars. :P  
Yes, and oh, guess what? I ROCKED my audition (sung You Can't Stop the Beat – Penny's solo) and got into the All-Women's choir! Only I sucked my other audition -emits dramatic sigh- and didn't get into Show Choir or Vocal Jazz. :( But that's okay.  
Ooh, last night my pinkie toe itched so bad that I couldn't stop scratching it and it turned tomato red! AH! Has that ever happened to anyone?  
And you know how FanFiction's pages stretch really long while real books have like, pages less than half the width? Well, I wonder if some of our stories here would make full-length novels. I know Annibelle White's would, and so would mecelphie's, but…what about the rest of us normal peoples'? A thought to ponder!  
Anyway, that's enough of me. UGH man, I'm still really hyper and it's only ten in the morning and it's going to be a no-fun day cos I put off all my homework 'till today bad bad bad and I'm shaking from the Pixie Sticks I'm so hyper and I want to see WICKED! ZOMG!  
TOODLES!!1!11!1eleventyeeleven!!1!11 :D


	10. Chapter 9: Mission Glinda

**Author's Note: **Have you noticed that we drive on a parkway and park on a driveway? Really, it's _amazing. _I wonder why that is…  
Okay, so my sad attempt to distract you from the fact that I haven't updated in over a month isn't working. But you have no idea how sorry I am! I'm serious – I feel horrible. And it's not that I haven't had the time to (although it's not like I had tons of time, either). It's just I've had the worst case of Writer's Block ever (still kind of do) and I'm going through one of those times where your interest in the story decreases – but not all my interest, because I really do want to finish this. I hope this longer-than-usual chapter can compensate for my Fanfiction Sin.  
Read, review, and enjoy :)  
(Note: this chapter is unbetaed. Sorry to my betas and - hopefully not - to you guys.)

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Boq smiled to himself as he followed the footprints on his horse. They were a little smudged, sure, and sometimes there were a few missing, but they were footprints. Solid footprints. He felt like a detective for the OAK (Ozian Agency of Knowledge), what with all his great intuition he'd been having lately. He'd found the cottage! He'd found the footprints! He was on a roll. 

Feeling that his wonderful work deserved some acknowledgement, Boq began to sing to himself. "Follow the footprints in dirt. Follow the footsteps in dirt. Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow the footprints in dirt." He repeated this mantra multiple times, each sequence louder than the previous.

He continued on with his traveling, still singing, only to discover that the footsteps were growing fewer in number and had less of an imprint in the dirt. Sometimes he'd go a minute without seeing a single footstep; in this case, a minute was a pretty long time.

Next thing he knew, the ground was bare. Boq sighed and, clenching his fists, willed himself to remain calm. He had come this far and no one would be heartless enough to leave him there. However, darkness would be approaching in a few short hours, meaning the time he had to search for his long-lost friends was dwindling. Even Boq knew that inconspicuous traveling was best done by night and, since Elphaba was a very inconspicuous person, she would be long gone by the time he reached her resting place. Even worse (or better, if you were Elphaba), she had that magicked broom.

Calm was hard to maintain if the chances of getting what you wanted were not so good.

Boq sighed once again and resumed his searching, looking for subtler clues that could lead him to Elphaba and Fiyero. Oh, Unnamed God, why did this have to be so difficult? Why was help so hard to find? It wasn't as if he was constantly asking for favors – although he admitted Glinda had been quite a large one. Maybe she'd used up his ability to be granted favors. But if that was the case, that wasn't fair at all! His luck was as short as his height. If only he were taller…

But that was irrelevant to the subject at hand. Putting a hand up to his eyes to shield them from the afternoon sun, he took a brief scan of what lay before him. Lurline, he would have to put himself in the shoes of a fugitive, wouldn't he? So…where would a castaway hide? He rescanned his surroundings and found only the trees to be of interest – or rather, of _un-_interest. Boq brought the horse farther along through the forest before coming across a large clearing. Up ahead was a cornfield, and down below were…footprints. Boq grinned, ecstatic, and fought the urge to jump off his horse and do a gleeful dance.

He should so apply for a job at the OAK.

- - -

Elphaba woke up with a start and surveyed her surroundings. Judging by the sun's position, it was late afternoon; she wasn't supposed to be up yet, and that was unusual for her. Sure, she was a light sleeper, but when she was focused on something, it got done. And she was very focused on sleeping. So something must have woken her up, and it wasn't Fiyero's constant snores. Sweet Oz, speaking of which, she had intentions on stuffing a ear of corn in his mouth to shut him–

There was a soft rustling of stalks. Elphaba froze with fear and she sat there, listening as the sound grew slightly louder in volume with each clock tick. Soon the short _thud_ of hooves touching soil joined the rustling. Someone was here, and it wasn't a farmer.

They had to get out of there.

"Fiyero," she whispered harshly. When the only reply she received was an exceptionally loud snore, Elphaba said, louder, "Fiyero! Oh Oz, come on, wake _up_." She shook him once, twice, her body surging with adrenaline. When he resisted still, she slapped him across the face.

That did it. Fiyero shot up from his sleeping position, his eyes wide and fearful. "Are you okay? Am I okay? Are we okay? Are–"

"No, no, no, we're very _not_ okay. There's someone here. They've found us again. Lurline, you said we'd be safe here!" Elphaba hissed.

Fiyero blanched. "Um, well, they're just really smart?"

"Or _we_ just weren't careful enough," Elphaba shot back. "That's the last time I ever listen to any of your 'master plans'."

"Oh, don't–"

"We have no time for arguing; let's go." Supplies in hand, she took off toward the opposite direction and Fiyero had no choice but to follow.

"Stop! Wait, wait up!" a man's voice called from behind them, followed by a whinny – a loud whinny. Elphaba turned around and waved frantically at Fiyero to get down on the ground. They both dropped to the earth right before they came into their adversary's line of sight. The horse pounded toward them and the sound of hoof steps echoed around their heads before growing softer, and then…silence.

Elphaba breathed a heavy sigh of relief; they had escaped whomever had been chasing them. But, just to be safe, she motioned for Fiyero to maintain his lying position. They remained there for a few more minutes before getting back up again.

However, Elphaba's heart continued to pound against her chest and her stomach had that unsettled, nervous feeling. "Who's after us?" she asked.

Fiyero shrugged. "The Gale Force, I guess. But why does it matter? _Everyone_ out there is against us–"

"Me."

"What?" Fiyero said bemusedly, giving her a look.

"You said everybody is against _us_ when, in fact, they're only against _me_."

"Fae, it's me, too."

"But you would never have been in trouble if you weren't with me," Elphaba pointed out.

"But it's all the same in the end," Fiyero said. "They hate you, they hate me for being with you; they're after the both of us."

Elphaba ignored him and instead started a new topic. "So, where should we go now? The person will be back for us any minute now."

"Um…I say we follow that person."

"Why would we do that?" Elphaba asked, furrowing her eyebrows. "Like I said, he's bound to come back for us."

"Oh. Yes, you're right." Fiyero grinned sheepishly. Elphaba only sighed and started walking back toward their entrance point. But unfortunately for them, their theory proved to be true: the person _had_ returned for them. She swore loudly and cursed herself for having allowed them to linger for so long. Elphaba had a strong feeling they'd been seen.

"Hey!" the person screamed as the couple made a last-minute attempt to run away. "Wait up! I _said_, wait _up_!"

Elphaba willed herself not to look back, only to keep moving, keep moving. The cornstalks whipped her face, leaving behind small red cuts. She no longer cared where she was going – all she wanted to do was escape. But she didn't see the pile of fallen cornhusks in front of her, and, as a result, tripped and fell flat on her face. She composed herself as fast as she could, but it was too late – the person had swung around in front of them. Elphaba braced herself for the worst.

As her gaze fell on the horse and its rider, however, Elphaba's expression turned to one of shock – not fear. Fiyero finally caught up to her, panting, but when he looked up at their offender, he gasped. Because there, sitting on the horse…was Boq.

Silence, and then, "Elphaba? Fiyero?" the Munchkinlander breathed. "Oh, sweet, sweet Oz, you have no idea how happy I am to see you."

Elphaba and Fiyero were speechless. They hadn't associated with anyone who knew who they were – well, Elphaba hadn't associated with anyone beside Fiyero at all – and who were actually _glad_ to see them in a long time.

"Um, hello?" Fiyero said tentatively.

"Hello! Hello!" Boq dismounted the horse and pulled Fiyero into a "manly" embrace. Fiyero hugged him back, albeit in a very awkward fashion. After all, he had been expecting a hateful Gale Forcer, not a warm and touchy-feely Boq. "I am so glad to see you two," he repeated.

"How did you know where we were?" Elphaba then asked, curiosity surmounting her initial caution.

Boq was so overcome with happiness that he'd finally found them that her question took him by surprise. "Um…well…it was a dream. Really, it was just a dream. But I just knew, and I…oh, it's a long story."

"And what do you want with us?" Elphaba asked. "Do you not realize that, by associating with us in a friendly manner, you've put yourself in danger?"

"I know. But right now I have bigger things to worry about, which brings me to why I came here. Glinda–"

"We know," Fiyero interrupted.

Boq was taken aback. "Oh. Really? But how?"

"I have my sources," Fiyero said in an attempt to sound mysterious and important. But after looking at Elphaba's facial expression, he guessed he'd only come off as ridiculous.

"I'll just cut to the chase, then: I need your help to find her. I thought that, if you two helped me – you have your little magic book, right, Elphaba? – then we would be able to find her. I can't do it on my own."

Elphaba gave a small smile. "You're in luck, because that's exactly what we planned on doing."

"Really? Are you serious?" Boq grinned and sighed happily. "Sweet Oz, that's good news – that's great news! Can we leave as soon as possible?"

Elphaba looked over at her husband and he nodded. "I don't see why not. How about right now?"

"Oh, yes!" Boq exclaimed, then paused his celebration. "Listen, guys, thank you so much for helping me. I know you two must have been completely confusi – sorry, confused – when I came here, saying I found you with the help of a dream. Though I'm sure you two have been through so much that there isn't much to faze you anymore. But seriously, thanks again."

"Um, you're welcome," Elphaba said, becoming uncomfortable with all the mushy words. "But there's only one problem: you have a horse and we don't."

"Well, I'm short, so we all can–"

"_No_," Elphaba cut in and rolled her eyes. "It doesn't work like that. Fiyero and I are perfectly fine walking. Right, dear?" She ignored the furious shaking of his head and continued. "But do you have any _educated_ guesses as to where she might be?"

Boq sighed and Elphaba noticed for the first time that his eyes were dull, no longer full of the boyish innocence – an oxymoron in its own way– he'd had back at Shiz. His face had considerably matured as well; a change she wasn't sure pertained to the simple fact that he'd grown older or the recent events he had experienced.

"Yes, I do. She's across the border in Quox. Or at least, that's what Lopcan said…" He sighed again. "Whatever the case, there's no way you two can walk the whole trip." Boq realized that was a bad choice of words – why was he calling this a trip? This wasn't some fancy, relaxing vacation at a quaint little cottage along Lake Chorge. It was an expedition, a Mission: Glinda.

Elphaba thought for a moment. "Well, we could fly, but I haven't flown the broom in ages." She didn't mention it was because she had been too afraid to, too afraid to be seen. "But we would have to go back to the house, and that's just wasting precious time."

"I'm fine with that, but the two of you will have to ride with me so we can save as much time as possible."

"But–"

Boq held a hand up. "It'll do for a short amount of time. Come."

Elphaba's shoulders dropped in defeat and she climbed onto the horse. Fiyero followed and, without further ado, they were off.

- - -

Two and a half cramped hours later, the trio arrived back at the cabin. Now that they were free of the danger of being discovered, Elphaba and Fiyero were able to spend more time packing the essentials they would need for their "adventure". And, of course, they would find that broom.

It took Elphaba a couple minutes to find its hiding place. The broom was in the back of their small – and only – closet, concealed beneath shards of wood from broken furniture (Fiyero had insisted on keeping them just in case a need for scrap wood arose) and pieces of fabric that he'd picked up at a textile shop. The broom itself was covered in layers of dust, but after a quick wiping it looked about as good as a wooden broom could get.

Elphaba then closed her eyes and, waving her hands around in flowing gestures, chanted a string of foreign words. Within clock ticks the broom was levitating a few inches off the ground. She grabbed it before it could fly away on its own (that happened once and was an experience she didn't wish to repeat) and walked back out of the cabin.

"So we're going to follow you?" Fiyero asked once they came to Boq.

Boq bit his lip. "Well, um, I don't know _exactly_ where we're going, so–"

"_He'll_ follow _us_," Elphaba finished for him. "Lurline, Boq, for the spouse of an esteemed Ozian leader, you don't know much about Oz."

Boq opened his mouth to protest but decided it would be a waste of energy; Elphaba was the most stubborn person he'd ever met. Instead he mounted his horse and waited for his friends to lead the way. Although he was definitely aware of the fact that "Elphaba could fly", he couldn't help but gape as she…well, as she _flew_. It looked scary. Then again, it looked fun. Maybe one day he would try that thing out.

Gathering the reins in his hands, he began to trot after the flying couple, filled with newfound hope. Not only did he have his old friends back, but he had found the help he'd wanted – and needed – and that made him Boq very, very happy.

Everything was going to work out just fine.

**

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Author's Poll**: Agh! I've even neglected this, too. So this chapter's question_s_ are: 

1. What was the first story you remember reading on here? (Mine was Annibelle White's "New Boy at Shiz")  
2. And – make this short, please :P – what are your plans this summer? (I went to Disney World a week ago – FUN! – am going to a CIT camp at my JCC, and am going to the British Virgin island of Virgin Gorda for a week in late August).


	11. Chapter 10: Terribly Mistaken

**Author's Note:** -coughs- Well. Um, hello, everyone! Long time no see. I'm sure you all would be glad to know I just returned from a weeklong (-cough-fiveday-cough-) to Virgin Gorda, in which I acquired so many mosquito bites (GOSHDARN that goshdarnned hole in that goshdarnned screen) I appeared to have a severe case of chicken pox. Sheesh. Anyway, I apologize for the long wait. You actually could have had a longer one, but then I got too impatient and decided not to lengthen the chapter cos I just wanted it out. Yes, I am a bad author. I apologize. Heh. Especially to Mel(talviel), who is only the bestest beta I have ever had and probably ever will, whether or not she chooses to think so. Hmph. Thanks bunches!  
Also: I am setting up a mini-contest-sorta-thing in which somebody can give me a better summary, cos mine sucks. Really. SO BE CREATIVE, YOU CREATIVE PEOPLE!  
And now…  
Read, review, and enjoy (and nitpick, please, although I'm not sure there's a lot to nitpick from thanks to my wonderful editor)!

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Glinda groaned as she made a feeble attempt to stretch out her aching limbs. It was a given fact that being hung by the arms for more than an hour or two was bound to be painful. Her wrists, however, especially felt as though they were on fire, swollen and inflamed from where the metal cuffs had been digging into her tender skin. Judging by the slow trickle of a warm, liquid-like substance she felt running down her arm, Glinda guessed that the cuffs had already broken flesh. Of course, her theory would be provable if only she could _see_. But since the state of her eyesight – or lack thereof – was a bit of an obstacle, she was left only to guess at her surroundings. 

Well…it was obvious she was in a holding cell. It was also apparent that she was in a really big house of some sort, as it had taken them a while to get down here. Other than that, however, Glinda knew nothing of where she was – probably because she wasn't in Oz.

She had to get out of here. How, she had no idea, but there had to be a way. Oz, if only Elphie was here. Her green friend had been able to her from that fire way back when, so there was no reason she wouldn't be of help now. However, Glinda forced herself to remember, Elphaba was dead; there was no help to be offered. A lump formed in her throat and her stomach turned over in itself as she remembered her friend melting, shrinking to the ground, becoming nothing more than a lifeless green puddle on the floor. Such a horrible way to die.

Then again, she realized, so was this. There had to be some way out of–

Glinda's heard the sound of tiny feet scurrying across the floor before feeling something brush against her ankles. She yelped before she could stop herself, immediately regretting it as the door slammed open and, judging by the heavy footsteps, an angry someone strode in.

"What was that sound?" the person demanded, standing so close to her their hot, foul breath ran down her neck.

"Nothing." She sidled away from him as far as her manacles could allow her; she could barely breathe as the air around her began to acquire the smell of his breath.

"Then why in Oz did you make a noise? Had you, by any chance, seen anything out of the ordinary? A rescuer, possibly?"

Glinda snorted. "Might I remind you I'm blind? Or had you not yet noticed, Grof? Or are you Hillar?"

"It is none of your concern," he said, his fingers curling around her arm (though Glinda figured it was Hillar). "But perhaps that noise was not made by you. Perhaps it was made by your _rescuer_."

"How could that be possible when you have two guards stationed at every exit?"

"Well, I…Yes, but…anything could happen…" He stopped. "Look, you, you're supposed to be silent. Not a peep should be heard from your lips. If I do, however, hear another sound from you, rest assured I will not leave you off as easy. You only have five days left to live, Glinda. Wouldn't you like them to be as painless–" she flinched as his fingernails dug into her skin "–as possible?"

Glinda allowed him a small nod. Hillar released his grip but refrained from increasing the distance between the two of them. Instead, he moved even closer, allowing his stubble to brush roughly against her cheek.

"I cannot deny that you are a very attractive woman, Glinda, very attractive, and, as much as I hate to admit it, it would pain me to see you die. Oz needs more pretty faces such as your own." When he received no reply, he continued. "I can make things much easier for you. If we work together, I can get you out of here, and you won't have to die. Your life can be better than you could have ever imagined, if you'd like it…" He trailed off, running a coarse finger down her cheek.

As much as _Glinda_ hated to admit it, the idea was tempting. All she had to do was give herself up to him and the torture would cease. She would live to rule Oz, she would live to see Boq, and maybe she would live to have children. And Boq. She would live to see Boq, her wonderful, loving, devoted husband–

But just how devoted would that make Glinda? She was going to let her captor take advantage of her, and for what, the possibility of her freedom? Her body for his word? He didn't care about her, not nearly as much as Boq did. He was a selfish man, just like the rest of them.

"_No_."

Hillar's finger stopped just above her breasts. "What did you just say?"

"No. I said no."

"No, _what_?" he asked, though his tone suggested he knew exactly what she was referring to.

"If you thought I would willingly succumb to you, you were terribly mistaken. There is no way I would ever agree to have sex with you, you bastard, nor would I_ ever_ agree to cheat on my husband."

A clock-tick had barely passed when she suddenly recieved a sharp blow to the head, leaving her very disoriented.

"Oh, because you have wittle Boqie at home, waiting to cater to your every need?" His voice sounded garbled to Glinda's ears as she fought to stay conscious. "If that's the case, then I have news for you: you just gave all that up. You gave up Boq, you gave up your life, and now you have to live knowing you made the choice to leave your _husband_ all alone, vulnerable to anything that might come his way. Because once we're through with you, Oz will under _our_ control. The Ozians will ask, 'Oh dear, how could this happen? What happened to Glinda, our alleged leader?' And you needn't fear, Glinda dear, for we will tell them exactly what you'd be: dead. You will be dead, and everyone will know you had let them down."

He then released his grip and Glinda felt herself relax out of the statue-like position she had unknowingly assumed.

"Splendid! Now, don't think I've forgotten the real reason I came down here. I repeat my question: what was that sound?"

"I…I felt…" She suddenly found herself breathless, unable to string together a single sentence. "There…was a…um, a rat. I-It startled me, that's…that's all."

Hillar snorted. "And you're certain this rat didn't happen to take the shape of a human?"

Glinda wanted to shout, "How in Oz would I _know_?" but still felt incapable of forming words. She instead responded with only a nod, moving her head as little as possible, for her skull felt as thought it had been cracked open.

"Fine, then. I'll be back in a few hours to bring you something to eat," he said, reminding her of the fact that she had not eaten in over twenty-four hours.

With that, he left, making sure to close the door extra loudly, making her head feel as if it would explode.

Glinda, hurting, starving, and too tired to even cry, let a wave of unconsciousness overcome her.

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**Author's Poll**: (Gee, this really was a short chapter. Ah-whoops. :/)  
1. Who is your favorite character from Winnie the Pooh?  
2. Am I the only one who thinks that Zac Efron was hot in Hairspray? 


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